


i want to eat the sunbeam flaring in you

by GreenyLove



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Sex, Cockwarming, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dom Kozume Kenma, Double Anal Penetration, Exhibitionism, Foursome - M/M/M/Other, Gags, Kinky Kenma Week 2020, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Partners, Nonbinary Kozume Kenma, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pet Play, Post-Time Skip, Semi-Public Sex, Sensation Play, Sub Hinata Shouyou, Subspace, They/Them Pronouns for Kozume Kenma, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenyLove/pseuds/GreenyLove
Summary: Hinata burns like a fire Kenma knows they could never truly temper — but they relish the challenge, all the same.(A short fic collection starring dom Kenma and their insatiable hunger.)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 57
Kudos: 181
Collections: stories that touched me





	1. day one - sensation play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy kinky kenma week! my favorite kenma ever is dom kenma so pls join me in watching them have a great time. prayers for hinata. 
> 
> tags will be updated as chapters upload! please check the chapter title and author's note for details on each day.
> 
> title inspired by [love sonnet xi](https://hellopoetry.com/poem/9927/love-sonnet-xi/) by pablo neruda.
> 
> [ **day one:** ~~toys~~ | sensation play | ~~daddy kink~~ ]

“Stay still, Shouyou.”

Kenma drags their palms across the sculpted planes of Hinata’s chest, up his arms until their fingers can curl around his wrists. They reposition his hands to wrap around the rungs of the headboard. “Just like this. Can you do that?” 

The body beneath them rolls and shudders. The scene has barely begun but Hinata is keyed up, eyes bright and hot. His jaw works against the ball gag. There’s drool on his chin and a little wetness already leaking from the slit of the thick, lovely cock fattening against his belly. Kenma watches him adjust his grip on the headboard, squeeze his eyes shut and try to settle down — but oh, it’s _difficult_ , for this marvelous body that yearns for movement to stay good and still on the bed.

This marvelous body Hinata built, that will do whatever Kenma asks. 

Cupping his cheek, Kenma catches his gaze. They keep their own expression focused and neutral. “Can you stay still? Yes or no, Shouyou.” 

Hinata breathes in slowly, holds it. Releases his air and the tension in his shoulders. When he looks back up at Kenma, he nods clearly. _Yes._

Kenma smiles and pets along the strap holding the ball gag in place. “Thank you, Shouyou. That’s good.” 

They sit back to survey the man beneath them. Hinata blushes cherry red across his cheeks. There’s already a shine to his pecs and forehead where he sweats in anticipation. His thighs are tense and hot where they rest on either side of Kenma’s folded legs. 

Their love is so easily riled. 

“I’m going to start, Shouyou,” they say calmly, reaching for the glass bowl resting on a tray beside them. They glance pointedly at the large gold bell hanging from the headboard, close enough to reach if Hinata needs it but not close enough to get in the way. “Same rules as always. One ring for green, two for yellow, three for red. Okay?” 

Hinata nods. 

“Show me you understand.” 

_Ring._

“Good.” Kenma rubs down his chest, trailing their metallic gold nails across the ridges of his abs. Hinata shivers but doesn’t jerk, keeps his shoulders and hips still through sheer power of will. It causes the hectic blush on his cheeks to spread farther down his neck. 

“You’re so wound up, Shouyou,” they croon softly. “So... _warm.”_

Hinata’s cock visibly jumps. 

Kenma smirks. “Let’s cool you down.” 

They reach for the bowl and pick up a single ice cube, rubbing it between their fingers until it just barely starts to drip. Like an artist with charcoal, they sketch a frigid outline across Hinata’s collar. The man beneath them inhales sharply, goosebumps erupting across his arms and shoulders. The wooden rungs creak when he tightens his grip. 

Kenma smiles sly, and drags the cube in a line down his sternum. They watch how Hinata sucks in his stomach, hips tight, muscles jumping. Kenma nestles the ice in his belly button and smiles broader when Hinata moans. They leave the ice there, to melt in chilly rivulets down his shivering flanks. 

“Brace yourself,” Kenma says. This time, they grab two cubes. 

Hinata’s eyes blow wide like he knows exactly where those cubes are going. 

Kenma grins and presses the ice to his nipples. 

The rosy brown nubs pebble and twist up _tight_ , the skin around the areola going splotchy red. Hinata groans, eyes slamming shut. His thighs shake, knees knocking inward to dig into Kenma’s ribs. 

“Shouyou,” they snap, coolly displeased. 

Hinata whimpers; he flings his legs open, overcorrecting. Power settles hot and heady in Kenma's chest as they _watch_ the exact moment Hinata’s eyes peel back open, fevered and determined. The muscled, magnificent form beneath them settles. Braces for more. 

Kenma swirls the ice cubes around his nipples before flattening their palms, trapping the ice between Hinata’s sensitive skin and their own body heat. 

_“Nnngh!_ K’muh!” Hinata shakes, cock weeping between his thighs.

The praise tumbles freely off their tongue. “Beautiful.” 

Hinata moans in broken little pants. The cold must burn but Hinata’s eyes are hazy with desire. Kenma can feel his heart jackhammering beneath their hand.

They lean down and press a cool, dry kiss to Hinata’s lower lip. 

And then, they play.

They grab another cube, then another: they melt them on his nipples, massaging icy water into his pecs; drop them on his stomach and let gravity and body heat send the ice sliding down towards his twitching dick; shove them in behind his ears, into his armpits, the crease of his thigh, behind his knees — just to see Hinata shiver and quake and work _so hard_ to keep still. 

Their headstrong lover grunts and moans and hisses around the gag. Whimpers when Kenma follows the ice with their mouth, the contrast of heat and cold making his dick leak. Those hands stay on the rungs, body obediently locked in place. 

Until Kenma wraps a cold, wet hand around his dick, strips it firmly from root to crown. Hinata yells, control shattered. His hips fly off the bed, both chasing their touch and running from it. Kenma takes the hand away, eyes narrowed and mouth pinched as Hinata trembles.

“Oh,” they sigh unhappily, “have you reached your limit already? I wasn’t done yet.” 

Hinata squirms, expression twisted up and desperate. He shakes his head violently, a garbled _nuh nuh nuh_ coming from behind the gag. His eyes are narrowed, challenging, so pretty and defiant. 

Hinata burns like a fire Kenma knows they could never truly temper — 

“Keep going?” 

_Ring._

They smile. Digging down to the bottom of the ice bath, they withdraw a bottle of lube. 

“Good.” 

— but they relish the challenge, all the same. 

The cap clicks open. Kenma drizzles chilled lube across their fingers. Hinata pants, and whines, and cracks open beneath their hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;'D
> 
> i appreciate all types of comments, from full sentences to emojis to keysmashes! they all refill my stamina bar! <3
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/greenywrites)


	2. day two - pet play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ **day two:** ~~role play~~ | ~~consent play~~ | pet play ]

“Oi!” Yamamoto’s voice echoes through the surround sound speakers until Kenma clicks a button to sync up their Arctis Pro. The indicator light on the right ear piece changes color; chat audio diverts smoothly through the headset as Yamamoto continues. “Is Hinata gonna queue with us?” 

Kenma glances down. “No. He’s busy tonight.” 

There’s a click and brief muffled feedback before Inuoka’s voice chimes in. “Hinata’s not playing?”

Someone sighs — Yaku. “Don’t worry. We still have a full stack.”

Before Yamamoto or Inuoka can ask, a fifth name joins the chat. Lev’s boisterous voice is uncomfortably loud. “Hello!”

“Pack it up,” Yamamoto groans. “We’re fucked.” 

“That’s not very nice!” Lev objects. “Molikva, you said everyone would be nice to me.”

A derisive snort. “In no universe would I promise that.” 

Inuoka cuts in, feedback crackling as he tries not to laugh into his mic. “I’m sorry, uh... _ what _ did you call Yaku-san?” 

“Molikva!” The Russian sounds proud and chipper. 

Yaku hisses, “Shut it, Lev!” 

The chat erupts in friendly chaos; Yamamoto teases Yaku over his _bedroom name_ mercilessly, saying Yaku must really like Lev’s dick if the Russian is allowed to call him something so soft. (Yamamoto is more brazen with his mockery now, as though their adult status is some kind of permission to finally razz everyone equally.) Yaku bites back, as he always does, and Inuoka skillfully manages to both placate and intentionally confuse Lev. 

Kenma turns down the chat volume with an amused huff. If this conversation were happening in person, they know Yaku would catch their gaze and the two would share an exasperated eye roll. A silent, mutual acknowledgment of how  _ heteronormative _ it is to assume the shorter or the quieter partner is the submissive one.

Between their legs, Hinata shifts his weight and whines. Kenma cards their fingers through his hair with a smile.

Like Yaku, they know the truth: the loudest boys make the most obedient pets.

Hinata kneels on the floor in a relaxed  _ virasana, _ knees spread and ankles tucked back against his bare ass. The pose makes it easy for him to lean forward and rest his forehead against Kenma’s inner thigh. At Kenma’s proprietary touch, he shivers and twists his face to the side, resting on one tanned and freckled cheek. He’s dazed; not approaching subspace, but floating in that warm-bathwater, bubbly soft state of arousal. The first stage of this sort of play is always a thorough, indulgent cleaning — Kenma gave him one orgasm already, in the shower. Just to take the edge off. 

Or, to take the edge off and then nudge Hinata gently back up with the help of the silicone ring snug as the base of that lovely cock. A vibrating bead sits on the underside, right where the shaft meets the furrow of his sac. It’s enough stimulation to keep him hard and shivery. 

Aroused. Out of his head. 

Hinata doesn’t need to  _ think. _

Kenma drags a thoughtful thumb along his plush lower lip. 

He just needs to open his mouth. 

“Shouyou.” Kenma strokes the black leather collar buckled so pretty around Hinata’s neck. The rose gold accents and heart-shaped charm look gorgeous against his deep tan. The collar matches the lined cuffs that keep his hands bound at the small of his back. 

Kenma slips a finger through the O-ring and tugs. “Up.” 

Those beautiful shoulders roll, abs clenching as Hinata uncurls his spine. He blinks up at Kenma and licks his lips, not to be seductive, but because he knows what’s coming and he  _ wants _ it. If he’s good, he won’t have to wait long.

Glancing at the screen — Inuoka got them in the match queue, good — Kenma rolls their sweatpants off their hips and down their thighs until gravity carries them to the floor. Underneath, they’re nude except for the fuzzy knitted thigh-highs tied in place by two silky ribbons. Kenma wears them for utility more than aesthetic — they get cold easily — but they note how Hinata’s breathing picks up and don’t fight the grin that tugs at the corner of their mouth. 

Hinata eyes their cock and his mouth falls open, a low needy moan spilling out alongside his tongue. His hips list forward, just enough to make his own erection bob in the air. 

“Need it, don’t you?” Kenma murmurs. Hinata nods, preening when Kenma pets through his hair. “Do you have your bell?”

_ Ring,  _ from behind his back, where his fist clenches a small bell he can use to safeword out. 

Kenma smiles, soft. “Okay, then.” They wrap two fingers around their penis, lifting it off their stomach and angling it towards that waiting mouth.  _ “Down, _ Shouyou.”

Hinata takes their length easily; they aren’t yet fully erect. Just swollen enough to lay heavy and warm in the cradle of that wet, wet tongue. Hinata settles his lips at the base, warm against their smooth, waxed skin. 

A sound cue in the game draws their attention —  _ matchmaking complete. _ Kenma picks up their controller and relaxes back into their gaming chair. Hinata leans after them until he rests with his cheek once more against their thigh. 

He doesn’t suckle, doesn’t tease with his tongue. Doesn’t moan, doesn’t squirm. 

Just watches with big, glassy eyes. Anticipatory and eager but above all, trusting. 

Heat spears through Kenma’s stomach. Beautiful. 

On screen, hero selection begins and they have to actively unclench their jaw to join the strategic debate. “Lev, go support.”

Lev gasps; his cursor drifts over to a buff, stoic knight in shining silver armor. “Can I be the knight?” 

“No, he’s way better in the offlane,” Inuoka says. “Just pick someone with the first aid symbol and follow Yaku.” 

Lev’s pout is audible. “That doesn’t sound very heroic…” 

“Damn, who should I take into the jungle?” Yamamoto asks, firmly dismissing Lev’s personal problems. “Kenma, who are you running in mid?” 

The group debates team composition until the on-screen timer ticks down and the game asks for their final selections. During the load screen, Kenma reaches down to absently brush Hinata’s cheeks, his jaw, the corner of his mouth where there’s already a tiny bit of drool. Hinata still watches them, a little more alert and desperate than before. His impatience is winning out, and Kenma feels the rub as his tongue slowly massages the underside of their cock. 

Kenma mutes their mic, reaches down to yank on their collar in warning. “Don’t be greedy. You only get what I give you, Shouyou.”

Hinata trembles. It takes effort, but the tongue stops. 

The match begins. Kenma unmutes and focuses. They don’t play this particular MOBA competitively but that doesn’t stop them from being competitive. They run their mage down the middle of the game map, pressuring the enemy tower and limiting mobility for the opposing players. 

When they get their first kill, their hips roll up. 

Hinata stiffens, then groans happily, swallowing around the heated stiffness. Kenma thrusts all the way to the base and stops, cock fully erect and long enough at this angle for the crown to sit right on the back of that wet, wiggly tongue. Hinata sucks, tongue squirming. Kenma bites back a satisfied sigh. 

It’s easy to keep their focus on the game. Each time their kill count ticks higher, they reward themselves with a few erratic, lazy thrusts into the wet heat around their cock. It’s much harder for Hinata — he squeezes his eyes shut, breathes heavily as he tries not to make too much noise. Kenma can’t see his cock but they know it must be sticky and hard. 

Hinata never breaks his rules; he never speaks, or moves his head, or tries to touch himself. There is just a hurdle, a final jump he has to make to truly sink into the headspace Kenma wants for him. And it’s so, so  _ gratifyingly hot _ to watch. 

It happens toward the end of the match. Their team presses towards the enemy core, victory all but guaranteed. Yaku yells orders at Lev and Inuoka while Yamamoto tears out of the jungle with his ultimate off cooldown, just in time to obliterate the last remaining defenses. Kenma grins, predacious, as their teammates wipe up the last few kills before going for the core. No one notices Kenma’s hero idling off the side. 

Putting down their control, they make sure they’re on mute before grabbing Hinata’s head and yanking him down hard and fast, smashing his nose into their lower belly. 

Their lover squeals, then moans. Kenma fists their hair and fucks up ruthlessly, choked gasps escaping their slackened lips. Hinata’s mouth is perfect, wet and hot and soft and  _ open. _ The noisy click as they bump against his soft palette makes their toes curl in their stockings. 

It’s beautiful, the surrender: one minute Hinata blinks rapidly, groans and wiggles his hips in aborted little twists. The next, he sighs out. His neck and shoulders relax, head going limp under Kenma’s hands. Those glossy eyes roll back, tongue lolling out, and he simply  _ exists. _ A hole for Kenma to fuck. 

It’s so fucking  _ good. _ Kenma lasts for three, four more thrusts before they pull halfway out and come in a sticky puddle across Hinata’s limp tongue. 

On screen, the enemy core explodes. A victory message flashes. The coincidence makes them laugh, boneless in their chair. 

The chat is boisterous, high on the adrenaline rush. 

“Fuck yeah! That was sick!” Yamamoto crows. 

“Molikva, did you see my kill?” Lev asks eagerly. “At the end?” 

Inuoka chimes in innocently. “Yeah, what about my kill, Molikva?” 

“I swear to  _ god, _ I know how to dispose of a body.” 

“Good game,” Kenma says, smoothly cutting off that particular conversation. Their voice sounds just as satisfied as it always does after a victory. 

“You good for another?” Yamamoto asks. Kenma hears the familiar  _ click-hiss _ of a can opening, likely an energy drink with more sugar than a professional athlete should be drinking. 

“I could go again,” Inuoka says. 

There’s some mumbling from either Yaku or Lev’s mic, and it occurs to Kenma that they might be playing in the same room. The thought makes him grin. 

Yaku finally sighs, “Yeah, I guess.” 

“You in, Kenma?” 

Kenma glances down. Hinata is flushed, breathing uneven. He hasn’t come; the cock ring still vibrates gently around his untouched dick. Despite that, he slouches against Kenma, snuggling happily into their thigh. His mouth warms their cock, a few stray drops of cum drying on the corner of his mouth. They slide one foot between Hinata’s legs, rubbing his neglected erection with the soft knit of their stocking. Just to relish the way Hinata’s eyes roll back, lashes fluttering. 

He looks blissed — content and happy to be an obedient, pretty thing. Kenma’s heart pinballs between their ribs. 

“Yeah,” they say, smile wide and feline. “I’m good to keep playing.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i'm gonna keep these short and sweet!  
> also me: *makes day two twice as long as day one* 
> 
> i'm weak 
> 
> i appreciate all kinds of comments, from full sentences to emojis to keysmashing! they all refill my stamina bar! 
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/greenywrites)


	3. day three - multiple partners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ **day three:** ~~cum play~~ | ~~humiliation~~ | multiple partners ] 
> 
> i asked twitter who should join these two in the bedroom and y'all tied the votes, so......here

Kenma wondered if it would be awkward. 

It wasn’t awkward to ask. Kenma’s no longer in the business of being shy about what they want, especially not when Hinata wants it too. Hinata is so effortlessly charismatic, neither of their chosen participants waited longer than eight hours before accepting the invite. Kenma wasn’t worried about  _ that _ . Who could resist energetic, charming Hinata Shouyou, twisting his hands shyly in front of him while he entices you into his bed? 

No, Kenma wondered about this — the event itself. Some things don’t seem real until they happen. What if, despite a decade of camaraderie strengthened on and off the volleyball court,  _ fucking their boyfriend while they watch _ is more than their friendship can handle? 

But perhaps their concern is unfounded. Currently, Bokuto and Yamamoto lounge on the bed and talk very seriously about macronutrients. It could be just another day at the gym, except they’re stripped to their underwear and a little...restless. 

Distracted. 

By each other, the broad expanse of sculpted muscle and firm skin and trimmed treasure trails. By Kenma, where they recline in the wide, soft armchair against the far wall. 

By the sound of Portuguese pop-punk, hummed offkey from the ensuite where Hinata gets ready. 

“Kenma!” Hinata calls. “What happened to the smelly-good body oil?” 

It’s like the air gets sucked out of the room. Yamamoto stiffens. Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot upwards. 

Kenma doesn’t bother hiding their grin. “Did you check the bottom drawer? 

“Hmmm l thought so — oh! Got it. Be right out!” 

Bokuto and Yamamoto shift on the bed, as though suddenly more aware of the circumstances. Tension bubbles up, enough to make Kenma frown. They flip through possible tactics, debating ways to pull both men out of their heads if it comes to that. Bokuto shifts his weight, opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get a word out — Hinata walks in. 

Bokuto’s mouth snaps shut. At the same time, Yamamoto’s falls open. 

Kenma smirks. 

Hinata looks decadent: sheer lilac lace cups his pecs, pretty atop his rosy brown nipples. The bralette connects in a deep V in the center of his breastbone, lined with a thicker and more opaque lace that matches the garter belt snug around that sturdy but narrow waist. 

The thong is merely scraps, a triangle of lace trapping his thick, pretty dick against his stomach. The backside is an even less substantial splash of lace, visible above the cleft of his ass. The garter straps frame the cutest, thickest ass cheeks Kenma has ever seen. Juicy enough to eat — and there are more than enough fading bite marks to confirm they do just that. Silky purple straps clip onto white stockings that barely fit around his thighs. 

He’s stacked but small, sinful but innocent. He glistens, plump and healthy skin shiny with body oil that sends the heady scent of orange blossoms throughout the bedroom. 

Hinata pauses in the doorway and pretends to adjust his stocking, but Kenma sees the coy little twinkle in his eye. He’s  _ posing, _ popping out his hip, not-so-subtly squeezing his pecs together. 

Little tease. Kenma adores him. 

“Come here, Shouyou.” 

Hinata floats over to Kenma and climbs shamelessly into their lap. He rests his palms on Kenma’s chest, leaning in and hovering above them to wordlessly beg for a kiss. Kenma indulges with nothing more than a finger on his chin to angle him properly. They kiss him calm but dirty, sliding their tongues together and coaxing a soft moan from Hinata — and Yamamoto. 

Kenma’s eyes snap over to their friend, predacious and assessing. Yamamoto looks like he’s been slapped and deeply enjoyed it, flush creeping up his strong jaw. He’s half-hard, visibly chubbed beneath his tight briefs. Kenma snares his gaze and keeps it while they drag their teeth firmly across Hinata’s lower lip. Yamamoto’s eyes widen. 

Bokuto is the one to break the silence, tone lower and rougher than his normal speaking voice. “Damn, Kenma. You really gonna share all that?” 

Privately, Kenma preens, pleased that Bokuto understands the dynamic so well. The older man has always been more aware than others expect him to be. 

With two hands digging into the cut of those strong, flexible hips, Kenma guides Hinata to turn around and perch prettily between their splayed thighs. Without prompting, Hinata leans back enough to put the slope of his stomach on display, hard abs leading down to the lace straining over his dick. 

Kenma scratches his nails lightly over Hinata’s flank. “He is stunning; he deserves to show off. Don’t you think so, Tora?” 

His given name makes Yamamoto jolt as though snapped back into his body. Heated eyes meet Kenma’s, searching. Kenma doesn’t smile, just quirks up a manicured eyebrow in reminder. There are only a few hard rules in this bedroom, but the most important is this: answer all questions when asked, and answer them honestly. 

“Yeah,” Yamamoto finally croaks. “He’s fuckin’ hot.” 

“Do you want to touch him?” Kenma asks. 

“Yeah.”

They nudge Hinata onto his feet. “Go on, Shouyou. Your guests want to put their hands on you.” The redhead starts forward eagerly; they stop him with a hand on the back of their garter belt and enjoy the way he whines. “What are your rules?” 

Hinata clenches and unclenches his fists. “Guests will be addressed with respect. Listen to all commands.” 

“And?” 

“I come last,” he whispers, digging his toe into the carpet. 

Bokuto swallows thickly, owl eyes glinting. His grin is broad and eager. He scoots closer to the end of the bed and holds out a hand to his teammate. “Guess we better make it worth it, then, huh?” 

Hinata scrambles onto the bed. It begins. 

Bokuto kisses him deep, hands huge on Hinata’s jaw. He’s unafraid to manhandle the smaller man to kneel between his thighs. Bokuto kisses like he does almost everything: with magnetic confidence and power. He presses his thumbs against the bolt of Hinata’s jaw and sucks his tongue out of his mouth. It’s loud, spitty. It makes Kenma’s heart skip.

Yamamoto groans. “God _ damn.” _

“Want some?” Bokuto asks, giggling as he angles Hinata’s face towards the other man. Hinata smiles, warm and dazzling. 

_ “Fuck _ yeah.” 

Yamamoto kisses fast. Less deep, wandering tongues but plenty more teeth. Hinata’s mouth is cherry red when they finally part, strands of spit breaking away to stick to his chin. 

Before anything else can happen, Bokuto leans closer to Yamamoto and asks, “Can I kiss you too?” 

Yamamoto’s throat clicks audibly when he swallows. He nods, oddly speechless, and lets Bokuto work their mouths together with a comforting palm on the side of his neck. Hianta watches, wide-eyed, hips already beginning to squirm against the mattress. Kenma doesn’t ask him to stop. Hinata can work himself up if he wants, as long as he follows his rules. 

“There!” Bokuto pops off and smiles. “Now we’re all even.” 

“Bokuto,” Hinata begins. 

Kenma cuts him off, a stern warning.  “Shouyou.” 

Hinata goes red. His eyes drop — whether he’s actually shy or just playing up his nerves for the scene is something Kenma resolves to ask him later. 

“Can I suck you off,” Hinata asks, and pauses intentionally before adding with a flutter of his eyelashes, “Bokuto-senpai?” 

Bokuto’s eyes go a little wild. “If you think you can take it.” 

As Hinata nods eagerly, Kenma watches Yamamoto. They think back to the brief exchange of emails, a few days before the scene. The kink lists, the triggers. The things Yamamoto checked off as  _ enthusiastically consenting. _

“Tora wants to eat you out,” Kenma says, watching Yamamoto’s expression for any sign of hesitancy and finding none. Yamamoto just grins, wolfish, and licks his lips. 

Bokuto leans back against the headboard, pillow shoved behind his back. Hinata crawls between those glorious thighs, eager to peel him out of his underwear. A long, wide, uncut cock springs free and Hinata moans loud at the sight of it. 

He’s starved for it, taking the first three inches into his mouth at once. Bokuto’s head thunks back, huge hand resting on the back of Hinata’s head. Kenma waits until Hinata works even more of that dick past his lips, until Yamamoto edges behind him and starts to reach for his thong. 

“Stop, Tora,” they say calmly, before pitching their voice louder so Hinata can hear them. “Don’t make him do all the work, Shouyou.” 

It’s hard to say who groans louder at that. 

Hinata walks his knees wider on the bed, stabilizing his core to he can keep his mouth on Bokuto while reaching both hands back. He yanks the thong out of the way and spreads his ass wide, fingers digging into the plushness. His smooth pinkish hole visibly twitches. 

“You’re a fucking lucky bitch, Kenma,” Yamamoto growls. He knocks Hinata’s hands aside and palms those globes himself. “You get this whenever you want?” 

He peels Hinata’s cheeks apart, leans in, and spits. He chases the spit with his mouth and tongue, and feasts. Hinata spasms violently, tries to run from the onslaught, but the only place to go is deeper down Bokuto’s cock. A groan rumbles out of the older man that sounds like it comes from somewhere deeper than his chest. Bokuto watches his partners hungrily before those half-lidded eyes drift to Kenma. 

Kenma smirks. They rest their chin on one hand, the other toys idly with the drawstring of their silky lounge pants. They quirk one eyebrow, as if to say,  _ Make it good. _

Bokuto grins, as if to say,  _ You got it. _

Yamamoto eats Hinata out like he’s dying, adding tongue and fingers until Hinata is loose enough for his dick. The two powerful athletes fill the small man from both ends — Yamamoto goes hard while Bokuto keeps a fist in those ginger curls and fucks up slow and deep with each flex of his hips. When he comes, he drags Hinata to the base and pumps straight down his throat while Hinata can only squirm, red-faced and teary. 

_ “Ahh!” _ Hinata whimpers when Bokuto lets him up, licking up stray strands of spit and cum. 

“What do you say?” Kenma prompts. 

“T-Thank you, Bokuto-senpai.” 

“And?” 

Hinata looks over his shoulder, coquettish even with drool on his chin.  _ “Harder, _ Yamamoto-senpai.” 

Time goes sideways, after that. 

They are a hedonistic tableau, taking their fill of each other. Hinata rides Yamamoto, bounces on his dick with his feet flat on the mattress while Bokuto mauls his chest, biting those nipples until they’re swollen and puffy. When Bokuto tips Hinata sideways and finally takes his ass, Hinata howls, weeps at the size and the stretch. Yamamoto gets acquainted with his mouth, while keeping a hand firmly wrapped around the base of Hinata’s weeping dick. 

Each time, Hinata comes last. Sometimes, his partners make him wait, slowing down and sucking hickeys into his skin until he begs them for it. Another time, Bokuto comes in his ass, jerks Hinata until he spills into his fist...and then keeps him on his dick until Yamamoto sucks another orgasm out of him. 

Kenma is content to watch quietly, aloof as faerie royalty on their throne. They are hard in their silk pants but don’t pay more than a few idle strokes to their own arousal. It’s all secondary to the sight of _Hinata,_ sweaty and pleasure-drunk, lingerie slipping lopsided off his body as he gives himself eagerly to his partners. They still have  _ eyes, _ though, and eventually their hand tugs their pants out of the way to finally bring their pink stiffness out into the open. 

Three pairs of wild, heated eyes snap in their direction. 

“Kenma!” Hinata whimpers, slumped nearly boneless against Bokuto’s chest. “P-Please.” 

The other two exchange curious looks, unsure what Hinata is asking for. 

Kenma knows. They hum, pretending to debate while a slender hand traces idle paths up and down their length.

“If you can take them  _ both,” _ they say, gaze dropping pointedly to where Bokuto’s semi-hard dick still spreads their tender hole wide open, “then you can have me too.” 

“Yes,” Hinata breathes, one hand fisting Bokuto’s hair while the other reaches for Yamamoto. “Please, senpai, please _please please-!”_

“Shhh,” Bokuto says, pressing sweet kisses along Hinata’s neck. “We got you.” 

“You good?” Yamamoto asks the other ace as he fumbles through the sheets for one of the various bottles of lube. 

Bokuto smiles and winks. “Super good, bro. You good with the prep?” 

“So good.” 

“I don’t need — please, I’m stretched enough!” Hinata whines, petulant but not enough to do more than pout up at Bokuto. 

Bokuto kisses his pout and hooks his hands around Hinata’s thighs, hoisting them up and out of Yamamoto’s way. “Not for both of us, cutie! Just relax and breathe really deep, okay? You look  _ really  _ amazing right now…” 

With his senpai’s sweet praise like a steady stream in his ear, Hinata relaxes. When Yamamoto’s lube-slick fingers trace his puffy rim, he gasps. When those fingers carefully work him open, slipping into his ass alongside Bokuto’s hardening cock, he keens. Bokuto swallows his whimpers, squeezes his thighs. Yamamoto licks at his sore, sore nipples. Together, they tune Hinata like an instrument until he’s a feral, panting mess. 

“Now, now, now, now,” he chants, until Yamamoto nudges the slick crown of his dick against his rim. The touch, the barest pressure renders him breathlessly silent. 

Bokuto kisses his cheek. “This is the part where you take a really, _really_ deep breath.” 

Yamamoto slides in. Hinata screams. 

His partners freeze but it’s rapidly apparent that Hinata is experiencing a great amount of pleasure, not pain. His eyes screw shut, mouth slack as his breaths saw in and out of his heaving chest. His dick is  _ hard, _ nearly purple, leaking a constant, clear stream down his shaft. 

“S-So much, o-oh god,” he sobs. Those big, weepy eyes jerk over to Kenma. A shaky hand reaches for them. “K-Kenma.” 

They don’t dawdle. The mattress dips under their weight and Hinata cries out when it jostles the cocks inside him. Kenma strokes a hand through Yamamoto’s buzzed undercut, pulling their old teammate in for a quick but deep kiss. Bokuto is next; they lean around Hinata’s shivering body to lick deep into the other man’s mouth with a satisfied hum. 

A small bit of thanks, for giving them this: Hinata, wrecked and lovely, worshipped and bruised. 

Kenma finds the lube and slicks up their hand. They settle at Bokuto’s side and lean in to kiss Hinata, warm and soft. “Make them come, my perfect boy,” they coo, cupping his cheek with their dry hand. “One last time.” 

It doesn’t take long. The pressure of two dicks inside him, spreading him wide, a relentless and inescapable heat — Hinata  _ weeps _ and Kenma swallows every gorgeous cry, thrusting up into their own wet fist. Yamamoto’s thrusts are slow and deep; Bokuto growls at the sensation of another dick frotting his own  _ while inside Hinata’s ass, _ and jerks up quick and shallow while his teeth worry more bruises into the side of Hinata’s neck. 

Kenma pulls back when Hinata begins to cry for real, tears running hot and glittery down his cheeks. 

“Are you close, Shouyou?” 

“I don’t — _please,”_ Hinata begs. “Don’t wanna break m’rule.” 

Yamamoto groans, gravelly in his throat.  _ “Shit, _ I’m close.” 

“Almost there,” Bokuto gasps, his rolling back as he tilts his chin towards the ceiling. “Oh, fuck fuck fuck.” 

Kenma’s mouth is dry. They feel almost sick, shaky with how  _ fucking arousing _ it is to watch Hinata break apart. Bokuto finishes first, balls twitching as he empties deep in Hinata’s shaking body. The added heat spurs on Yamamoto; he rabbits his hips, the sound of lube and cum squelching out of Hinata loud and obscene. He grits his teeth and shoves in one last time, a high whine escaping him as he spills. 

Hinata whines, breath fast and shallow, watching Kenma with eyes that can barely stay open.  _ “Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” _

With a low groan, Kenma comes, catching their cum in their cupped palm. “Good boy, Shouyou. Good. We’re all done. You can come.” 

Hinata gasps, “Thank you, thank you,  _ oh-!” _

He jerks his hips, grinds down on the softening cocks inside him. It’s all he needs. He comes with a soundless cry, cock kicking against his belly. There’s barely anything left inside him. His partners groan at the spasming pressure as his ass clenches around them. 

And then, a peaceful quiet. Hinata goes completely boneless; Kenma catches him as he tips sideways. With Bokuto’s help, Hinata ends up curled in their lap, with Bokuto on one side and Yamamoto on the other side of Bokuto. Kenma watches their two friends lean against each other, exchanging sleepy kisses and a few hushed whispers. 

Against their chest, Hinata gently comes down. Kenma pets through his hair, murmurs their devotion into his ear. They don’t hide their satisfied smirk. 

No reason to worry, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)) 
> 
> i appreciate all comments, from full sentences to emojis to keysmashes! all refill my stamina bar. <3
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/greenywrites)


	4. day four - exhibitionism/voyeurism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm behind but that's fine because time is fake! you know what isn't fake? hinata's exhibition kink. 
> 
> it is implied that this takes place in the same universe as day three. you don't have to read day three to enjoy this. for context: bokuto and tora fucked hinata while kenma watched. 8')
> 
> [ **day four:** exhibitionism | voyeurism | dirty talk ]

Kenma likes the gym. 

Well, more accurately, Kenma likes _this_ gym. Mid-sized, close to their house, tidy but private enough for an off-season professional athlete to maintain their form without being bothered. Not too loud, not too over-crowded. The equipment is well-maintained. Not that Kenma needs a lot of machinery — just the treadmill. 

A specific treadmill on the upper balcony. The one that affords the perfect view of the weight room on the level below. 

They set down their water bottle in the cup, mess with the LED display until the belt accelerates to a forgivingly mild speed, and watch Hinata.

Hinata likes to be watched. 

Even forty feet below, he moves like he _feels_ Kenma’s stare: deepens his stretches, arches his back just enough for the hem of his nylon shorts to slip higher up his thighs. His racerback tank exposes his shoulders and the biceps that swell and shine as he curls with a free weight. He’s focused on his reps, counting them down with a pink tongue pinched between his teeth, but Kenma doesn’t miss the way Hinata _grunts_ louder, pants harder. Makes a show of peeling his tank away from his stomach to wipe the sweat off his forehead. 

Kenma watches it all with a lazy-eyed, bored expression that expertly masks the way they’re howling inside. 

It makes their palms tingle, their nails dig into the foam hand grips. Hinata bends at the waist to pick his towel off the flood, the motion stretching his shorts _tight_ across his peachy ass, and Kenma almost launches themselves off the balcony. 

Almost. Kenma can play the long game. Hinata knows that better than anyone, and shoots them a wide grin before moving on. 

Hinata moves through his rotation. This is an arms day; he cycles through the chest press, tricep dips, lat pull-downs, and a long stint on the rowing machine. By the time he hits the 50 minute mark, he’s drenched and pink-cheeked but undeniably happy. As only a ravenous monster could be. 

Catching Kenma’s eye, he points towards the locker room. 

_Meet you there,_ he mouths. Kenma nods. 

Finishes their cooldown, disinfects the machine. And then follows their boyfriend to the showers. 

Hinata has already vanished into a shower stall when they arrive. Kenma sees a familiar towel — powder blue and patterned with cheerful coconuts — hanging outside the stall in the corner. Along with familiar tanned feet just visibly under the edge of the curtain. Thin streams of white soap bubbles curve down the swell of Hinata’s calf muscles. Kenma hears him humming to the beat of one of the Portuguese club mixes he likes to blast while dancing in the kitchen. 

Kenma looks around. The locker room is empty. They have about forty minutes before they need to meet Lev and Yaku for a double lunch date. Kenma could shower in the stall next to Hinata, rinse up quickly and move on with their day. 

_Or —_

They approach Hinata’s shower.

“How was your workout, Shouyou?” they ask, stripping down in the small semi-private cubby between the main thoroughfare and the shower stall itself.

Hinata’s humming cuts off. He peels aside the plastic curtain and watches Kenma, not a single ounce of shame in his heavy gaze. “Mmm! It was good! Did you have fun?” 

Grabbing a few choice bottles from their shower kit, Kenma steps into the stall. 

“Hmmm.” They herd Hinata back into the warm spray. The bottles go on the shelf; their arms go around Hinata’s neck as they lean in close enough to taunt but not to touch. “I’m about to.” 

Their boyfriend catches the purr in their voice and perks up like a puppy. Kenma pinches his chin and yanks him into a long and heady kiss. Hinata gasps happily against their mouth, opening up obediently for their tongue. 

Hinata is clingy, wandering hands smearing soap from his body onto Kenma’s as the pair stagger fully under the stream of hot water. Kenma’s hair gets wet in its ponytail, pulling on their scalp, but it’s an inconvenience ignored in favor of biting Hinata’s mouth until it turns a pretty candy red. 

It’s _cute,_ honestly, how easy it is to make him tremble, to make that lovely dick fill out and start to drip. The redhead finds their thigh but before he can grind, Kenma grabs his hips and spins him to face the wall. 

“Arms up, Shouyou. Palms flat on the wall,” they order softly, nosing behind his ear to be heard over the rush of water. Hinata obeys but squirms; Kenma lifts a brow. “Oh? Are you really surprised? You’ve been _flaunting_ this ass for the last hour. Don’t you _want_ me to touch you?” 

Hinata glances at the opaque but flimsy curtain, all that separates them from the open sprawl of the locker room. “H-Here?” 

Kenma shrugs. “No one is around. Just me.” They drop more of their weight against his back, wrapping both arms around his waist to trace their fingers around his naval. “But even if it wasn’t — there could be a whole crowd and you’d love it, right? As long as they watched you? Like I watched you with Bokuto and Tora?” 

Mention of their most recent scene has a shudder rolling through their partner. Hinata presses his forehead against the tile and whines. “What if — someone could come in.” 

Kenma nudges his feet apart, finally palms the delectable ass that is their most constant distraction. Hinata whimpers as they spread his juicy cheeks and drag a thumb across the cute pink curl of his asshole. His rim flutters and Kenma has to close their eyes against the rush of blood going south. They lean in, ready to paint a more vivid fantasy — but the fantasy comes to life. 

The locker room door bangs open; boisterous voices and raucous laughter echoing off the tile. A group, at least three by the sound of things, all arguing about some idol Kenma barely recognizes. They are loud: throwing open lockers, kicking off shoes, rifling through bags. The conversation continues even as more showers turn on at the far end of the row. 

Hinata _shakes,_ eyes blown wide. He stares at the curtain and bites at his own lips. Kenma watches, clocks the way his hands flex against the wall, how his hips jerk listlessly, pushing his ass back into Kenma’s grasp. 

“Color, Shouyou?” they ask, lips against his hair. “Can you be quiet for me? Let me fuck you with these strangers around?” Hinata twists his head to bite into his own forearm, an almost soundless whine escaping from high in his throat. 

Kenma swallows back his own groan. “I brought a plug too, you know. Could fill you up and make you keep my cum inside you while we eat. Lev and Yaku, the waiter — no one in the restaurant will know.” 

Hinata nods, frantic, breathlessly chanting, “Green, green, yes yes _yes_ _please.”_

Kenma smirks, licking water and sweat off the back of Hinata’s neck. Their hand drops down to palm his dick and he relishes the way Hinata’s eyes roll back. 

“Then be very quiet, Shouyou. And hand me the lube.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly this day should just be "greeny day" because all three of those prompts are *chef's kiss* 
> 
> thank you for reading! i appreciate all kinds of comments, from full sentences to emojis to keysmashes. all of them refill my stamina bar. 
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/greenywrites)


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